Fiat Lux
by OtterAndTerrier
Summary: During a rare moment of peace, they found themselves as two friends—-two, not three—-that did care about each other... to detail.


Hi everyone! I know it's almost Halloween, but here I bring you a Christmas story :D This was written for the Missing Moment Challenge at The RHr Love; I came up with this idea a while ago, and the challenge was the perfect chance for me to finally write and share it.  
>Forgive me for the made-up facts—they were necessary! The title means 'let there be light' in Latin, in the sense of dispelling ignorance ;) Many thanks to <strong>TMBlue<strong> for revising this, and to you for reading!

On a side note, I want to apologize for the lack of **The story of me, you and magic**'s second chapter :( I've been really busy with uni and life and haven't had much time to write, plus the second chapter is kind of tricky... and a little boring. Hopefully I can post it before November ends!

Hope you're all doing well!

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><p><strong>Fiat Lux<strong>

The long Christmas day had finally ended, and most of the inhabitants of number twelve, Grimmauld Place had already escaped to their bedrooms, too full and exhausted as to linger any longer. Only two lonely feet were making their way back downstairs, until they ran into some quiet sighs at the top of the last staircase.

'Hermione?' Ron asked, bending over to catch sight of the barely illuminated person sitting there.

'Yes?' she answered promptly, attempting a smile.

'What are you doing here, still up?'

'I was helping your mum and Ginny to clean the kitchen. We're done, though. I assume that's why you're leaving your bed, to give us a hand?' Hermione inquired, narrowing her eyes.

'Of course that's it, I'm so disappointed!' Ron replied, playing along. 'What am I supposed to do now? I reckon I'll have to go down there anyway and grab some food to get over it.'

'You're unbelievable! You were going to the kitchen to keep eating? Is your stomach a bottomless pit or what?'

Ron folded his arms and looked disapprovingly at her. 'I'm growing up! I need vitamins, and proteins, and fibres and all that stuff—'

'Which I'm sure you'll find in abundance in the food you were going to grab,' Hermione said, arching an eyebrow.

'Ah, you'll have to wait to see,' Ron said, climbing down the steps past her.

'I'll be here.'

When he came back, Ron's arms were full of biscuits, mince pies, strings of home-made marshmallows and a bowl of nuts.

'You see,' he began, halfway below Hermione, 'all the healthy food is over. I took these quite unwillingly.'

'I can imagine,' Hermione said. 'Are you going to bed now that you've satisfied your cravings?'

'Maybe, yeah,' Ron replied, nibbling a mince pie. 'Are you?'

'No, I'll stay up for a moment.'

'Care for some company?'

Hermione tilted her head.

'Weren't you going to sleep?'

He shrugged and, without a word, dropped next to her on the top step.

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny came into view now as they exited the door leading to the basement and headed to the staircase, talking in whispers.

'Staying up late, are we?' Mrs. Weasley smiled widely to the pair as she approached. 'Well, you've got to enjoy your holidays best as you can, because I'm afraid trips outside the house are not possible.'

Ron and Hermione flattened themselves against the walls at each side, leaving space in the middle for Ron's mum and Ginny to walk through.

'Just please don't go downstairs, or you might rouse _her_ and wake up the whole house. Sleep tight, children,' Molly said, walking away.

Ginny merely looked once at each of them, grinned and followed her mother.

'Are you going to tell me what's on your mind?' Ron asked once her mother and sister took the next staircase.

'About what?' Hermione asked, even though she knew it was stupid to reply to a question with another question.

'It's quite obvious you're either upset or sad about something. You're unusually quiet.' Ron shrugged again. 'I probably shouldn't complain, though, since usually you only speak to me to tell me off for something.'

Hermione bumped her shoulder against him.

'If you don't want to tell me, it's okay. I just thought you might want to talk.'

Hermione looked sideways at him, considering his offer, and then nodded. It truly was a friend that she needed. And it was a most strange event that Ron asked her if she wanted to talk.

'All right. I'm only a little down because it's the third Christmas I've spent away from my parents. I mean, I have the nicest time here, and I know they don't miss me too much—'

'Wait,' Ron cut her off, puzzled. 'Why do you think they don't miss you? They're your parents!'

Hermione nodded again and gave a half-hearted smile.

'I only meant that they must be used to me not being at home by now. As time goes by... I feel more and more... disconnected from them, from the world they live in, from the world I used to share with them,' Hermione tried to explain, biting her lip. 'We hardly spend time together anymore. And when I'm with them, I miss this world, where I belong now.'

Hermione folded her hands together and stared quietly at the dark staircase.

'Why didn't you go squidding with them?' Ron asked.

'Skiing, Ron,' Hermione replied with a sigh. 'Because I heard about your dad and had to check on all of you, of course.' She looked up at the ceiling to avoid his gaze as she added, 'And because I can't ski. I'm not... _good_ at sports, in general.'

'Is that a sport?' Ron asked sceptically, until he noticed her embarrassment. 'You don't have to be good at everything. No one can. Otherwise... you'd be kind of perfect-perfect, and... let's face it, nobody wants that.'

'What? Why not?'

'Blimey, because nobody would seem interesting to you! We'd be all faulty people. And nobody would be able to stand you!'

Hermione was in a fit of laughter.

'Melin's beard, I never thought of that!'

'See? Now you don't want to be perfect anymore, do you?' Ron said, grinning. 'Because Harry and I wouldn't be friends with you if you were, keep that in mind.'

Smiling shyly at him, Hermione thought that if perfect people were hard to put up with, it seemed like she wasn't that far from being perfect, after all. However, she decided to keep those unvoiced feelings to herself.

'Now, I wouldn't mind being good at sports myself. Do you reckon I'd be good at skiing?'

Hermione pictured Ron in a tight ski outfit, dark sunglasses, his hair untidy in the mountain breeze and shiny in the sunlight; then her mind played a movie of him on track, with a missing ski and falling in a snowball, and she had to control a second outburst of laughter.

'You'd totally ace it,' she lied. 'But you'd better stick to Quidditch.'

Ron's expression turned gloomy.

'Yeah, I wish I was good at that, too.'

Not knowing what to say to that without offending him, Hermione remained silent.

'Want some?' Ron said, offering her a string of marshmallows. 'I haven't touched it.'

She accepted it and tore a piece to put in her mouth. Ron had almost finished off his plate of biscuits.

'So, you don't like sports in general? I thought it was just Quidditch.'

'It's not that I don't like them, I'm not good at them,' Hermione corrected him. 'I enjoy watching Quidditch, from time to time.'

'I didn't know that,' Ron admitted. 'I thought you went to the Quidditch matches just because Harry played and we all went.'

'Well, that's another thing you don't know about me, Ron,' Hermione murmured, feeling her cheeks flushing lightly.

'Hey, there're things you don't know about me either, Hermione,' Ron retorted.

'You think so?'

'Yeah!'

'We've been friends for almost five years, Ron, and I happen to pay attention. But if you're willing to learn more about me and let me show you that I know you better, we should do a trivia game,' Hermione suggested.

'A what?'

'Trivia – small, basic things about ourselves that we don't usually mention.'

'Hm. Should we ask each other, then, to see who knows more?' Ron asked.

'Well, if you dare...'

'Ha!'

'Here we go, then. My favourite colour?'

Ron thought before saying, 'Blue?'

'How did you know?' Hermione said, flabbergasted. She had never expected Ron to know her favourite colour at the first guess.

'Your Yule Ball dress, it was blue, wasn't it?' Ron explained. 'I s'ppose girls pick their dresses in their favourite colours for fancy events and stuff.'

'Right... I can't believe you remembered it,' she said, without thinking. Because if she had thought of it, she probably wouldn't have said it, especially after seeing Ron's face slowly turning red.

'It was just last year,' Ron said, shrugging. 'Now you guess my favourite colour.'

'Maroon?' Hermione said, smirking, as she tugged at the sleeve of Ron's chunky jumper. 'I'm joking. It's green.'

'Yeah! And how did _you_ know that? Harry told you? I told him it was green because he thought it was orange, because my room is all orange,' Ron said, frowning. 'If I could choose the Cannons' colour, believe me it wouldn't be orange.'

'No, he didn't tell me anything. Like I told you, I pay attention. Next question: my favourite school subject?'

'Hermione!' Ron complained. 'Can't leave school alone even in a game? Oh, all right: History of Magic?'

'Transfiguration, actually. And yours is Defence Against the Dark Arts, if you ask me.'

'Of course not, mine _is_ History of Magic!' Ron said, before laughing.

'Very funny. Then I should start copying your notes instead. My favourite season?'

'Is it... autumn, because school starts?' Ron guessed.

'It is, but not because of that,' Hermione said, frowning.

'Are you serious?'

'Yes, I really like it.'

'And what's the reason, then?'

'Yours is summer,' she said haughtily, ignoring his question, 'because school _ends_.'

'Well, that's right.' Ron shrugged. 'What about favourite part of the castle?'

'That'd be—' Hermione started, but Ron held out a hand and hurried to interrupt her before she revealed her answer.

'I'm supposed to guess! And I say the library.'

'Great, Ron, and yours is the kitchens, right?' Hermione said, blushing furiously. Her idea had never been to have Ron making fun of her, but somehow that was exactly what he was doing. The library had been exactly the place she liked the most at Hogwarts.

'I was thinking of Room of Requirement, but kitchens sound good,' Ron replied, grinning.

'I thought of Room of Requirement, too, for your information. How about the best food you've ever had? I don't know that one.'

'Anything my mum makes, really. But the shepherd's pie at Hogwarts is not bad at all,' Ron said dreamily. 'Yours?'

'My grandmother's casserole,' Hermione said, a trace of sadness in her voice.

Ron hesitated for a moment.

'You've... hardly ever talked about your other relatives. Never, actually, I think. Is she—?'

'Gone,' Hermione confirmed, sighing.

Ron brushed her fingers, which were resting on the floor, with his hand.

'So, do you think I can guess your favourite sweet?' Hermione asked.

'I don't know, it's a tough one.'

'Is it Chocolate Frogs?'

'Oh... yeah, I suppose it is!' Ron laughed. 'I mean, I like anything with chocolate, anyway... You, on the other hand, aren't a fan of sugar, so I can't guess your favourite sweet.'

'I like sweets, Ron, considering that I hardly ever have any at home. Not stuffing myself with sugar like you do doesn't mean I don't like it. And my favourite dessert is custard tart, although I also like the chocolate gateau a lot.'

'Chocolate gateau, eh?'

'Let's see... Who is your favourite sibling?' Hermione asked mischievously.

'You'll guess that?' Ron said, chuckling. 'Because I'm not answering, that's actually a low blow.'

'Is it one of the twins?' Hermione insisted. 'Or Bill?'

'No... I'd say Charlie,' Ron replied, pensive. 'He was great at Hogwarts, you know, Prefect, good marks, awesome at Quidditch, and yet he wasn't a show-off or an arrogant prat like Percy. Now he's got this job he loves, he lives abroad, on his own, making himself known out there. I've always thought he's really cool and brave as hell.'

As she considered Ron's answer, Ron said, 'Who's your favourite friend, then?'

'What?' Hermione exclaimed, outraged at being caught off guard with such a question and seeing Ron's smug smile.

'Come on... I answered the sibling question.'

'Both are equally wonderful friends—'

'Don't give us that rubbish!'

'I really can't choose, Ron—'

Ron grabbed the hands that Hermione was waving in front of her as to reject the awkward question and forced her to look at him.

'Okay, calm down,' he grinned, although he kept an inquisitive eye on her. 'I won't tell Harry.'

Hermione rolled her eyes, but laughed.

'Well... Harry doesn't argue that much,' Hermione said, carefully, at last.

'I see.' Ron didn't look as upset as she had expected, and she took her chance: 'Who is _your_ favourite friend?'

He smirked and pretended to be thinking hard about it.

'Hm... Well... I'd say... Er, it'd be...' Hermione glared at him. 'I met Harry in the first place. And,' he added, looking smug again, 'he doesn't argue that much.'

Hermione snorted, her fingers still wrapped in Ron's fists. She finally sighed.

'Time to sleep, I reckon. Thank you, Ron, it was fun.'

'Wait,' Ron said, preventing her from standing up and taking two crackers out of his pocket. 'I also brought these. Do you want to...?'

They took a cracker each and pulled. Both got the purple crowns that had eluded everyone at dinner, and they laughed as they put them on. At last, they stood up; Hermione gave him a hug. Rather shocked, Ron hugged her back a little hesitantly: their cheeks brushed past, soft skin against rough.

'Good night,' she murmured, and turned round. She had taken a few steps when she realized Ron was standing where she had left him. 'Aren't you going to bed now?' she asked, perplexed.

'Yeah... In a minute,' Ron said, smiling reassuringly. 'Goodnight.'

Hermione hesitated, but she turned to go again and walked away.

As he watched her vanishing into the shadowy landing, Ron sighed, sitting down on the top step of the staircase once again.


End file.
